


Forget All You Know

by Emily (JustAround)



Series: August 2018 Fic-A-Day [7]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: What-If, missing sibling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15890043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAround/pseuds/Emily
Summary: The Malfoy's don't talk about Lucius' dead sister.  Maybe that was a mistake.





	1. Forget All You Know

A sigh escaped Albus Dumbledore as he sat back in the uncomfortable chair. A heaviness pressed down onto his heart as he studied the young woman next to him gravely, knowing there was very little he could say to convince her to change her plans. Plans, he admitted, were quite well put together, even with the complexity. Though he did not know why he was surprised; when push comes to shove, Slytherins always did seem to find a way to work things in their favor.

“There are other ways…” he started, knowing it was a futile attempt. She shook her head immediately, even as he spoke.

“No, Professor,” she argued calmly. “There isn’t. I cannot follow the orders of a mad man who will bring only devastation to our society, but I would never be able to fight against my brother and our friends. Not after the many protections they afforded me growing up, what with the not so desired traits I seem to have. No, this is the only way.”

Albus nodded sadly, knowing her mind was made. “Once the spell is cast, Josephine, it may be impossible for it to be revoked. The complications you require…”

“Are needed,” Josephine interrupted once again. “I’ve already spent the last few months setting up an entire life outside of the Wizarding World, outside of England. There is a man waiting for me in London, who I’ve charmed to believe this was the first business trip he took with his new wife. By tomorrow evening, we will both we on a flight to America. His family and coworkers are expecting both of us. Their memory modifying charms were some of the last I intended to cast with my wand, which will be left with my beast of a husband.”

“And,” she added, her voice growing quieter as she placed a hand over her stomach, “I need to protect my child from the terrible beliefs my family and my husband follow. I will never be safe here, if they knew. Not even Lucius, for all my brother loves me, will shelter us.”

Wishing he could convince her to allow the Order to protect her, but knowing his efforts would be in vain, Albus nodded as he pulled out his wand. “I assume you set up credentials in the Muggle world.”

Josephine nodded. “I did. Please, Professor.”

There was no more putting it off. Raising his wand, Albus said, “Goodbye, Josephine.”

Casting the memory modifying charm took longer than usual, as he rebuilt her entire life piece by piece. When he was finished, he reached over and touched her lightly on her hand. “Joyce? Are you quite alright?”

The young woman shook her head, as it to clear a sudden fog. “Sorry for slipping away like that. I’m afraid it’s gotten late, and I should be getting back to Hank. But thank you very much for the lovely chat. It’s always wonderful to get different perspectives on my favorite art pieces.”

“It was my pleasure,” Albus said as they stood up. He led her out of the small room in the library and to the exit where she gave him one last wave before stepping out into the misty weather. He watched as she disappeared into the night, closing his eyes, and hoped that one day, she would be able to return to the Wizarding World.


	2. Letters From a Dead Sister

Their meals were usually take in silence.

They still had the Manor, but that was a cold comfort to all of them. It was a rare moment indeed when they found themselves without some type of Ministry worker, Auror, or other guard looking over their shoulders, studying their every moves. Waiting for the inevitable slip-up. It was easier to say nothing at all then to worry about saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Easier to stay silent.

Which was not as difficult as one would anticipate. The second war damaged all the Malfoys, physically and mentally, and it would take some time for injuries to scar over, for the mental voids to dissipate.

It was unto one of their silent meals when the sudden sound of tapping caused all of them to startle, hands reaching for wands they were no longer allowed. The Auror guarding them at that particular time opened the window to allow an unfamiliar owl entrance. Lucius followed the Auror’s hand, seeing him cast a silent spell on the owl, most likely checking for some type of curse.

The owl was seemingly unaffected, though she seemed to turn and glare at the Auror.

In another lifetime, Lucius would have laughed at the obvious annoyance on the Auror’s face. In this one, he merely turned his gaze downward, focusing on what food he had. Thus, he was unprepared for the owl to land at his hand, staring at him expectantly. Ignoring the suspicion on the Auror’s face, and the curiosity on his son’s, Lucius slowly unwrapped the letter the owl had, his finger still weak enough that it took a few tries. Ignoring his body’s failings, he unrolled the strange parchment.

_My dear Lucius,_

_You probably thought me dead, with all these years that passed. I hope this letter finds you alive and well. From my inquiries to the American Ministry, it seems as if Lord Voldemort is truly defeated; only with that knowledge do I send this for you to read. If I thought him alive, I would never dare to contact you, not after the actions I took over seventeen years ago._

_I ran away, Lucius. I could no longer bear living as the wife of a man who espoused blood purity above all, who take joy in the deaths of Muggles. I was never the daughter our parents wanted, for all that I was sorted into Slytherin. I had no place in the world, not if I wanted to reject those ideals while keeping from battle against you, my own brother, the only person who protected me from punishments that may have killed me. Or left me brainless, to be used as a breeding mare to contain their way of thinking._

_I was better then that. My daughter was better then that._

_I discovered I was pregnant only a few months after my forced marriage. The thought of raising my child in that den of villainy was enough to destroy me. With the help of Albus Dumbledore, I devised a plan to escape to America. He replaced my entire knowledge of my life in the Wizarding World and replaced it with memories of a new woman, one I chose as Joyce Summers, newlywed to a man from America. Everything would have worked out exactly as I planned, with my knowledge of the world I grew up hidden in my mind, in a place I would never again find._

_Except._

_My daughter, my reason for being, was not magical. In our world, she would be a squib, and probably would have been drowned by my pureblood husband when her letter from Hogwarts did not come. Her lack of magic was only beneficial, as it allowed me to continue living without any magical influence. Allowed the memories implanted into my mind to flourish without interference. But my daughter, your niece, was destined for greater things._

_She is the vampire slayer. And she is missing._

_During the past year, one of her friends allowed a spell to be cast, one he hoped would show a friend how much he truly meant to her. Instead, the intended target was the only one truly insulated from the spell. I, along with many others in the town, were affected. When the spell was finally lifted, everyone else went back to their normal lives._

_I did not._

_His spell, coupled with the magics of the Hellmouth, destabilized the spell Albus cast on me all those years ago. Over the next couple months, I began to remember my life - my true life - and I was terrified by that revelation. I did not attempt to contact you, as I felt magic had no place in my life anymore. I could still protect my daughter without it, and allowing her to see a world she could never truly be a part of would only hurt her._

_Then I found out she was the slayer. And now, she is gone. She has run away, and I cannot find any trace of her. I have no wand to cast locating spells, and if I attempt to go through local channels to procure one, my identity will surely be revealed. I do not want to hide any longer. While the Wizarding World may no longer have a place for me, it is still a part of me I cannot deny. I am terrified I will never see her again, Lucius. I beg of your help, for all we shared growing up. There is no where else for me to turn for help._

_Your loving sister,_

_Josephine_

Lucius stared blankly at the letter as he reached the end, unaware of the paper creasing under his increasingly tense hand, unaware of the coloring draining from his face. He reread the letter over and over, deaf to the questions from his wife and son, only jerking slightly when the Auror tore the letter from his hands. Only when he heard the Auror choke in shock did Lucius look over to Narcissa, his voice shaking as he said, “It is a letter from my sister. She is alive. I must get to the Ministry at once.”


	3. Unwanted Assignments

The last thing Ron Weasley expected was to be called into a meeting with the Head Auror.

It felt like yesterday since Lord Voldemort was defeated, the way the last few months had passed so quickly. Turns out, the aftermath of a final battle was just the beginning; clean-up took longer than any of the young people could fathom. Their parents, the ones left alive, knew better. It was not the first War they lived through, though the end of this one meant more. This one gave a more final answer than the last, as roomful of witnesses saw Voldemort’s death.

Saw his corpse.

Still, Ron and his classmates were not prepared for a world that needed to heal, needed to clean-up. There was a Ministry still refilling its ranks, an Auror department that needed to replace so many lost during the war - or arrested afterwards. Ron and Harry had expected their dreams of being Aurors to take an extra year, as they had skipped an entire year and missed their N.E.W.T.s. Turns out, a depleted Auror Department accepted anyone with the proper qualifications.

And taking part in the Battle of Hogwarts was the top qualification of their generation of wizards and witches.

Ron and Harry were in one of the many rushed through training, then paired with more experienced Aurors to continue their training. Most new Aurors traveled with their mentors, filled out paperwork, and gave said paperwork to their superiors, to be glanced over and sent to the Head Aurors.

Which is why Ron was sweating by the time he arrived to Robards office. He knocked, immediately wiping the sweat from his hands on the side of his robes, thankful the clothing was spelled against any type of moisture.

A gruff voice called, “Come in,” and Ron found himself answering without hesitation.

He did hesitate, however, when he opened the door to find himself staring at Lucius Malfoy.

If it wasn’t for the training he had undergone, he would not have been able to force his feet forward, force his body to move to the chair Robards indicated he sit. In Ron’s mind, Lucius Malfoy was extremely guilty of working with Lord Voldemort and did not deserve the comfort of his seat, the comfort of Robard’s office; he should be rotting in Azkaban like the rest of the Death Eaters. But nobody wanted another Sirius Black, a man sent to prison without a trial. Couple that with testimony by Harry Potter that none of the Malfoys bothered to fight for their so-called-Lord during the last battle gave Lucius the gift of house arrest.

At least, until his trial.

“Weasley,” Gawain Robards barked as Ron sat down, ignoring the former Death Eater. “There’s been a complication.”

Ron raised an eyebrow, keeping the rest of his face as passive as possible, a skill drilled into them during training. “A complication, sir?”

Robards pushed a parchment his way. Ron reached for it slowly, a sinking feeling in his stomach at the troubled look on the Head Auror’s face. He saw Lucius shift in his chair out of the corner of his eye, but Ron refused to look his way. Instead, he took the parchment and began to read. The letter wasn’t long, but the contents shocked him, enough that he looked from the parchment, to Roberts, and back down at the parchment. Not only was he discovering _Merlin, Lucius Malfoy had a sister!_ but said sister wanted nothing to do with the pureblood ideology and ran away.

And his niece, _Draco bloody Malfoy’s cousin_ , was a vampire slayer of all things.

He had no idea how to respond. Neither, apparently, did Robards, as Ron’s flabbergasted reaction was almost mirrored in his superior’s face. A much more subdued reaction, though a similar one notwithstanding. Ron cleared his throat, feeling the need to say something, and settled with, “Is this a trap?”

A slight feeling of satisfaction filled him as he felt Lucius Malfoy tense up beside him, though the former Death Eater said nothing. It was almost a letdown, for such a minuscule reaction. Part of him expected a more dramatic response, something similar to the way his son acted during their school years together. Apparently, Draco had not learned his responses from his father; Lucius, for all the snobby overlord, managed to keep his feelings hidden in a way his son never learned. Ron was almost disappointed. In fact, he would have been disappointed if it wasn’t for the contents of the letter. Speaking of which…

“We’ve run a variety of tests on the parchment,” Robards was saying, and Ron forced himself to focus, “According to all tests, the parchment and the contents are real. I contacted the American Ministry and they confirmed a witch using the pseudonym of Joyce Summers contacted them, asking permission to use an owl to contact her brother. Which is why I’ve asked you here, Weasley. Any other time, I would send two higher ranking Aurors to deal with this situation. As we find ourselves dealing with a shortage of such, you will accompany Mr. Malfoy and I to the Hellmouth, to confirm the existence of his supposed sister.”

Ron stared. “Sir, why me? You must have others who are…”

The question died off as Robards glared at him. Ron visibly wilted under the glare. On one hand, he wanted nothing to do with the Malfoys and whatever lies they devised to keep out of Azkaban. On the other hand, he did not want to anger his boss. And said boss had a very short tolerance for anyone questioning his orders.

“The other Senior Aurors have assignments,” Robards said. “You’re just a tad above a trainee, and better to accompany me on this task. Potter was my first choice, but he’s better suited here, where people can see his work.”

A bolt of jealousy ran through Ron, though years of experience helped him force it back. Of course, people would want to see Harry. He saved the Wizarding World, after all. Besides, with this assignment, he’d get to travel to America, a place none of his family had traveled, let along Harry. He would be the first to do so, a rare thing in such a large, extended family. “I understand. When do we leave, sir?”

“Two days,” Robards said, standing up to lead Ron out of his office. “You will receive a list of items to bring. Report to my office first thing the day after tomorrow, with everything packed.”

Ron nodded and with a ‘Yes, sir,” he stepped out of the office. Only when the door closed behind him did he slouch, allowing his body to relax. That relaxation only took a few moments, though, as he remembered Harry was waiting back in their office, wanting to know all the details. He was going to go mad. Who could believe that Malfoy was related to a vampire slayer?


	4. Forays in the Muggle World

The doorbell rang on an inconsequential Tuesday.

Without a second though, Joyce was already moving towards the door, hoping deep in her heart that Buffy would stand on the other side of the door. Her pace slowed, however, as she considered the prospect of her daughter ringing the doorbell of a house she lived. She slowed to to a more sedate walk, shoulders bowing in slightly. With her luck, it was probably a door-to-door salesperson, wanting to sell her makeup she did not really need.

It was with that thought that Joyce opened her front door. She inhaled sharply, her hand going to her heart in shock.

Her brother stood at the door, with two unknown wizards flanking him.

Not that they announced they were wizards, no. But the way they stood, the way they shifted uncomfortably in Muggle clothing was enough to deduce the obvious. With Dumbledore’s spell now completely destroyed by the combination of Amy’s love spell and the dark magics of the Hellmouth, any witch could easily pick up wizards dressing up to fit into the Muggle world.

“Josephine…” Lucius said, his voice trailing off as he stared at her, as if convincing himself it was really her and not a figment of his imagination.

She found herself unable to respond, and they may have stared at each other for hours if it wasn’t for the wizard on Lucius’ left, a wizard older than her, but not by far, clearing his throat and asking, “May we please come in? There are matters of utmost important to discuss.”

A combination of embarrassment and indignation filled her, though she pushed both aside as he nodded, ushering them in with a wave of her hand. Her discussions with Rupert had instilled in her a sense of self-preservation and refused on principal to invite anyone into the house. Even during the middle of the day, with the sun shining brightly on her porch. There were talismans to protect vampires from the sunlight for short periods, and she refused to take any chances, not with her daughter still missing. She refused to die before Buffy returned; if she needed to make a pact with the devil himself to keep from dying, she would.

Closing the door firmly behind the three wizards, Joyce forced a smile and said, “Please, make yourself at home. Would any of you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?”

The youngest of the three, the redhead, perked up at the offer and would have accepted it, if not for the glare by the older wizard. Her visibly wilted and shook his head, pulling at the collar of the button-up shirt in discomfort. She felt for him, as she had felt uncomfortable in all of her clothes since February, when the spell started to fail. At least she understood why, now.

“I thought you dead,” Lucius said flatly, pulling her attention to him. The other wizards faded in the background as she looked up her brother for the first time in almost twenty years. He refused to sit down, instead leaning heavily on a black cane, the handle embellished with a silver dragon. “I created an expedition to search for you after you went missing, I mourned you when I believed you dead. Instead, I find you halfway across the world, disguising yourself as a Muggle.”

“Which helped keep me alive,” she replied icily. “Helped keep my daughter alive. My husband would have killed her, the moment it become apparently she wasn’t a witch. He would never have accepted a squib as a daughter.”

That gave Lucius pause momentarily. He pressed his lips together, eyes dropping momentarily, until he looked back up at her and said with a cracking voice, “You were dead. To find you here, now, after all this time…”

He trailed off as his voice gave way. Joyce’s eyes were blurry with unshed tears as she stepped forward, reaching for Lucius and embracing him in a tight hug. He tensed at the touch, but seemed to melt as she lay her head on his shoulder. Her voice was quiet as she whispered, “I never wanted to leave you. You protected me, all those years. But I did what was best for my child.”

“I understand.” His response was just as quiet, and she could feel the hesitation. But at the same time, she knew he would sacrifice everything for his child. Perhaps he already had. Her knowledge of the wizarding world was so out of date, Joyce knew it would take weeks just to catch up with the current affairs, let alone all he had experienced while she was gone.

The clearing of the throat of the older wizard drew her attention away from Lucius, pulled her out of the embrace. He stared at them, uncomfortable at the interaction, but nonetheless professional. “If what you say is true, and you have been out of our world since the first war, there are a few things that need to be settled before we can continue this meeting.”

Her first question - What do you mean, first war - died in her throat as he pulled a wand out of his suit coat. Her hand automatically reached for it, as if pulled towards the magicked wood like a magnet. As her hand closed around her wand, a sense of completion filled her, and she unconsciously smiled as a small firework emerged, filling the room with a bright green light. For the first time in almost twenty years, she felt like she was home. The sense of being incomplete, something she had felt ever since returning from London with Hank, with her daughter still forming in her womb, was gone. She was home.

“Well,” the older wizard said with a nod. “That takes care of that. Welcome back to the Wizarding World, Josephine.”


	5. Siblings Reunited

Lucius Malfoy sat stiffly on the tan flowered couch, his body inches away from the back of the furniture. His body was rigidly straight, as if more than slight contact with the Muggle furniture could infect him in some way. The look of contempt that had served him well over the years was pasted onto his face, but the mask was imperfect because of the suspicious gaze he continually shot at the lamp. And the ceiling light. And every other piece of electricity in the room.

“For Merlin’s sake, Lucius,” Josephine - Joyce as she insisted she now be called - “It’s not going to jump out and attack.”

His sister’s voice broke the silence of the room. It must have been almost an hour ago since the aurors took their leave of the room, taking Joyce’s wand with them, giving the siblings time to reconnect. The young Weasley had regarded them suspiciously as he left the room, giving his wand a wave as he left. A tracking charm, Lucius surmised, to make sure no magic was used. Even he had to give the redhead credit for that, knowing those type of charms would track any type of magic used, wand or not.

Unfortunate the blood traitor refused the Dark Lord’s cause; he would have been useful.

Still, that was not the pressing matter. Instead, Lucius turned his cold gaze to his sister, finding himself thawing slightly as he stared a sibling he long thought dead. “Yes, well, you never know when these Muggle devices will fail. Slidshod, they tend to be.”

He was rewarded with an eye roll. “As if you would know. Knowing you, this is the first time you’ve spent any significant time around them. As someone who has spent the last umpteen years in this world, I can honestly say I’ve never seen a lamp attack anyone.”

“Even on the Hellmouth,” she added as an after thought, her eyes suddenly drifting away from his, sadness filling them.

“How you managed to find yourself on the Boca del Infierno, I will never fathom,” he said with a long-suffering sigh, the hand not holding onto his cane going up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Though I find myself not entirely surprised. Your track record at Hogwarts tended to find you in precarious positions.”

“All of which I handily escaped,” she pointed out, her lips twitching into a small smile though it faded as she added softly, “Until my marriage to Rabastan. Then it all went crashing down.”

His jaw tensed at the mention of her dead husband, his hand clenching tighter on the handle of his cane. “He died during the final battle. I’m unsure if you knew him dead, but he followed the Dark Lord until the end.”

“Yes, he would have,” Joyce said bitterly, her eyes darkening with anger. “He was mad over that man and his despicable views. As were you, at one time.”

There was a question in her voice, and Lucius flinched slightly, knowing her statement true. “Yes, I did believe he was our salvation, the one to bring balance to the Wizarding World. But I realized too late the error in my ways, that the wizard I followed as indeed a madman. I…I believe there is a place in the world for Muggles.”

“And Muggleborn?” she pressed, a note of urgency in her voice. He paused at that, considering how to answer the question. Truth be told, he still resented those born of Muggles coming into his world, using the magic used by his ancestors for centuries, daring to attempt to bring their society views into a world they couldn’t possibly understand. Seeing that dilemma in him, Joyce sighed and sat back in her chair. “That’s what I thought.”

Silence fell between the estranged siblings, Joyce looking at Lucius with sadness in her eyes, Lucius avoiding her gaze completely.

“How much longer will they give us?” she asked, gesturing to the other room, where the aurors sat.

“Not long,” he admitted. “My summons was already on its way when I received your owl. I was only allowed to come, with supervision, because our world is hurting. Many wizards and witches were lost during the war, and then you come along, back from the dead, claiming your daughter is a vampire slayer.”

“Not claiming,” Joyce said, eyes narrowing. “She is. I’ve been working with her Watcher to find her; it seems she ran off after saving the world.”

Lucius gave no response, sensing an undertone of regret in his sister’s voice. The Slytherin part of him wanted to take advantage and press her for more, with her emotions leaving her vulnerable to releasing hidden information. Still, he refrained. She called him here, after all. He could afford to be a tad bit patient.

At least until the Aurors tightened the leash.

Joyce was the first to break as she sighed, her body slouching in her chair in weariness. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to track her, by myself. The last spells I cast were over a decade ago, and you know as well as I, that going that long without casting a spell puts me almost back at zero. By the time I train my magic again, Buffy could be…”

She trailed off, blinking rapidly to ward tears off, unwilling to finish the sentence. In a rare show of affection, Lucius leaned forward and took his sister’s hand in his, his gaze meeting hers with a deadly seriousness. “We will find her. Family is everything.”

“Even with her squib status?”

Without showing her any of the hesitation he felt, Lucius said in a low voice, “Her blood status matters not to me. She is your daughter. She is bloodkin. And I’m sure the aurors would be more than willing to help find the daughter of a witch, especially when said daughter happens to be the first vampire slayer to be born into a magical family.”

A watery laugh escaped her lips as Joyce tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Lucius, are you attempting to Slytherin your way into getting the aurors to help?”

His slow smile was the only response she needed.


End file.
